


Equine Arse  Anonymity

by Kayjaykayme



Category: Sherlock (TV)
Genre: All mistakes are mine, Coming In Pants, Established Relationship, Fancy Dress Ball, Halloween, Halloweenlock 2015, Hand Jobs, Humor, M/M, Public Sex, Rimming, Sweet Revenge, crap at titles apparently, first actual attempt at writing fanfic, some Greek mythology references, some case work, writing porn is a strange thing
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-10-22
Updated: 2015-10-22
Packaged: 2018-04-27 01:33:07
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,834
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/5028532
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Kayjaykayme/pseuds/Kayjaykayme
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Sherlock needs to speak with suspects at a fancy dress ball. He chooses a couple's costume for himself and John.  It is logical, practical and well thought out.  John doesn't agree and exacts sweet revenge.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Equine Arse  Anonymity

**Author's Note:**

> Hello! Here is my first finished attempt at Johnlock fanfic writing. Including some smut. Not beta ed so all mistakes are mine. Feel free to point out any glaring errors! It has been a long time since I wrote anything....hope it entertains! Also thanks to Eventhorizon for advice and encouragement and to Scullyseviltwin for formatting advice, (much better with spaces!)

****

“Bloody horse’s arse is what you are.”

“Oh John, so vulgar,” Sherlock tutted lightly as he examined the thing that John now referred to as ‘the abomination’, “also quite inaccurate. This, John, is a centaur costume, not a horse costume. So, to be precise, you should liken me to a centaur’s arse, and, Oh, pardon, I believe that you will be the one actually filling that role this evening. “Sherlock smiled brightly and smugly as he draped the bulky material of the costume over the back of John’s chair. 

“Yes, fine, you prat!” John poked at the pile of pantomime hell hide. “A centaur’s arse, whatever, just please tell me why I have to be the one to fill it?”

Sherlock sighed and affected his most why-am-I-surrounded-by-idiots expression, “Because John, it is a fancy dress ball and we are going undercover, and for that we need a costume, and this is our costume.” 

“No, I understand that bit, thank you. What I want to know is why I can’t have my own costume. Why do I need to be the back end of yours?”

“Because we, or really, I, need to speak with the Dioskuri brothers and I cannot do that effectively while occupying the rear end of this costume. I need to be in the driver’s seat and someone needs to sit in the back seat, I-“

“Dioskuri brothers?” John interrupted Sherlock’s decent into condescension. 

“Yes, here” Sherlock delighted that John was getting curious, manhandled him over to the kitchen table. On John’s laptop he quickly brought up a photo of 2 men, obviously brothers if not actual twins, early 30s, well dressed and whose shark-ish smiles put John off right away. 

“Twins?” 

Sherlock hummed in affirmation, “Twins, Cass and Paul Dioskuri. The Dioskuri family originally of Greek descent, London based for several generations. Old money, recently fallen on hard times due to poor investments. Tonight they are hosting a fancy dress ball at their family manor in observance of Halloween. The guest list includes several local organized crime figures as well as politicians and even a few prominent Yarders, “ Sherlock produced an ornate envelope from his dressing gown pocket, “and us! Well not us us of course.” Sherlock paused looking wistful for a half moment, “We really are quite regrettably recognizable these days.”

“Moving on.” Sherlock clapped his hands together and resumed his pacing. ”The members of the Dioskuri family are romantics and have always fancied themselves descendants of the mythological brothers Castor and Pollux. Fabled heroes of questionable moral fiber traditionally revered as patrons of the arts and lovers of horses. The Dioskuri brothers have apparently been endeavoring to rebuild a reputation of culture and power for themselves as well as cultivating new underworld connections and projects.” “Of course in Reality they are spoiled, less than moderately intelligent siblings who are both more than a little delusional. They are true hedonists with a taste for the exotic, specifically all things equine in nature. As part of their criminal debut they have recently managed to ‘acquire ‘several significant Greek antiquities. Included in their acquisition are a few equine themed bronze sculptures of a rather erotic nature.” Sherlock stressed the t in erotic and winked at John before continuing. “The collection is Worth a considerable amount monetarily and much more valuable in the historical cultural sense. Obviously the Greek government would like them returned. Intact and if possible, unsullied.” 

John snorted a chuckle and briefly tried to imagine what erotic equine bronze art work would entail. “Do you think they have sold them yet?” 

“No. My theory is that they have been using the antiquities as part of a private collection, as show pieces. I believe that they are trying to build their reputation and enhance their family mythos, demonstrating their skill set. Advertising. They want to be seen as people who are capable of getting what they want. This ball is intended to be a coming out party of sorts. I believe that the objects are either in the manor or in a location very close by. The collection may be on display to the right people. I need to be sure where they are before the authorities can move in. They could disappear quickly and for good if we get it wrong.”

“So we are going as a centaur.” John hoped stating out loud might help make it less absurd. 

“Yep, the theme is of course Greek Mythology. Dull. The brothers will be hosting dressed as the questionable heroes Castor and Pollux. I need to get their attention and engage them in conversation. I am sure that I can get them to give away where the objects are stashed, however, it may require a significant amount of-” Sherlock grimaced, “flirting.”

“Flirting?” John repeated then nodded, “Oh, right. Gay then, the brothers?”

“Well, more universally nondiscriminatory really, and as I mentioned, very much into horses.”

“Ah.” John could suddenly see the advantages of a half horse, half ridiculously attractive man, costume in this particular situation. He was, though, still far from happy about the costume arrangement. 

Sherlock gave John an almost believably contrite smile. He stepped up close and tenderly cupped John’s face in his large hands, tilting it up so that their eyes met. “I know it is not an ideal situation, but please John, I do need your help. I need you close but out of sight completely and this costume serves both needs admirably. You know we are too visibly identifiable together. He rubbed his nose against John’s nose. “That is the tall and short of it.” He smiled a kiss onto John’s pouting lips.

John rolled his eyes, “Ha ha, but –“

“John,” Sherlock interrupted and stared intently into John’s eyes, “it could be dangerous. I don’t know what they are capable of at this point. If it suddenly turns ugly, I will need you close at my side.” 

John had a feeling that serious peril was probably unlikely and that Sherlock was blatantly playing the old (and always effective) ‘John , my safety, no, my very life, could depend on you’ card. ‘ Damn it! John closed his eyes, and exhaled a frustrated breath, “Fine, but do not think. For one single moment. That I am not aware of what a manipulative bastard you are.”

Sherlock smiled innocently and planted a quick kiss on John’s forehead “Of course not John.” 

“You will pay for this.” John picked up his half of the costume, frowning at it in distaste.

“Yes, yes, excellent! Sherlock waved him off, “Time to get ready now John! No dawdling! 

John scrubbed a hand over his face and headed for their bedroom dragging the costume dejectedly behind him. 

*** 

They arrived fashionably late by cab to the large Dioskuri manor, the dark drive was lined with cabs and people in costumes making their way toward the lighted doorways.

Sherlock left the cab stopping to adjust the half mask he was wearing. It was ornate and complete with horse ears and a braided forelock suggesting a mane. He fluffed his already riotous curls and stood preening for a moment. It was a scene of vanity hiding the detective’s critical surveying sweep of the area.

John left the cab and took a brief moment to appreciate his partner’s costume. Sherlock’s lean muscular torso was mostly bare from the waist up, his pale skin unearthly in the dim lamplight. Over his right shoulder, offering thin protection from the chill autumn air was a gathered cloak of white material trimmed with gold. It was draped artfully across his chest and to his left hip. It was clasped at the breastbone with a gold Greek shield broach. The material trailed down his back and across to his left hip, partially obscuring the place where a wide ornate leather belt marked the end of his bare stomach and the beginning of the lower equine potion of his costume. Thick dark velvety material continued down covering his legs loosely, tapering down to his calves and ending in black leather boots stylized to simulate hooves and fetlocks. He looked untamed, debauched definitely a creature fit for a Bacchanalia. It made John smile a bit lustfully himself. 

Of course Sherlock made this absurdity look hot. He could make a burlap sack and twine look like sex. John sighed and looked down at his own portion of the costume. He was wearing the same material leggings and footwear as Sherlock but it was held up to his chest, high by braces, he felt ridiculous and was damn sure he looked it. 

Sherlock turned quickly and held out the long cape of brown material he carried over his fore arm. This was the bit that would be draped over john, the back and the arse-end bit. John tried to take solace that at least the tail was attached to this and not to him. He did not fancy a visit to the loo with a swishing tail. The humiliation factor was at least a little lessened. Not by much but he would take what he could get.

“John, quickly,” Sherlock whispered, “assume your position before we are observed too closely”

Again, John wondered at the lengths he was willing to go to for the madman who he was about to be crouching behind all evening.

He bent over and grasped Sherlock’s hips; there were actually straps for this purpose. Lovely. He bent forward and allowed Sherlock to adjust the cloth over him until they were a single unit.

“Ok John, keep quiet, keep your ears open and your head down.”

“Sherlock I can tell you right now that this bent over position is going to wreak havoc with my back in short order.”

“I will steer us to a key spot where I can watch and be seen by the right people and you can sit. It should be more comfortable and make you even more inconspicuous.”

“Ta. OK Let’s get this over with. ” 

They walked slowly up the drive and the few stairs to the hall entrance, Sherlock presented his forged invitation and they made their way together to the main hall.

Sherlock kept a slow steady pace allowing John to keep up easily. John amused himself for just a moment by exaggeratedly swaying their back end suggestively, imagining that it made for a nice horsey ‘come and get it’ effect.

“Yes John. Very seductive.” Sherlock whispered over his shoulder, and smirked at the muffled giggle that answered from his arse end.

“There John, I see a prime spot. We will take one casual stroll around the room just to ensure being seen and set up court in a visible spot. And John, kindly keep the come-hither hind quarters swaying to a minimum please.”

“Kill joy.” The hind quarters grumbled back.

Finally after what felt to John like a very long stroll around an enormously large room, Sherlock stopped and signaled him to back up. John felt the edge of a chair bump against the back of his knees. With a sigh of relief he sat and was able to straighten his spine with a few audible cracks. The new position brought relief to his back and also brought his face almost level with Sherlock’s arse. His very lovely plush arse. 

“Alright John?”

“Yeah, good, thanks,”

“Ok, the Dioskuri brothers are here, Sherlock whispered, “and they are heading this way. I will be laying it on thick so be warned. Keep your ears open and mouth shut.”

John gave that plush arse a retaliatory pinch.

“OW, very childish John. Now behave, here they come.” 

Two voices came into close proximity. John decided he disliked the owners of the voices sight unseen. Oily and salacious. Creepy. He felt Sherlock’s posture relax into a seductive slouch. John could picture his body language clearly, conveying confidence and a relaxed sexual openness. A very clear invitation. It made John’s hackles rise. 

John listened to the conversation filter through the material of the costume. It was stuffy and very dim under the cover of the faux horse hide. He could hear the brothers making bold and admiring comments to Sherlock…obviously liking what they saw. John tried hard not to imagine the unseen brothers reaching out and touching Sherlock in casual caresses. It was annoying the hell out of john already.

Sherlock played along brilliantly, returning the flirting with smooth and sultry tones all the time conducting a very subtle interview. Sherlock was a master at this and he would have what he wanted from the creepy brothers in no time. The sooner the better as far as John was concerned.

One of the brothers, hard to tell which from John’s perspective, had asked about the rear of Sherlock’s costume. John felt a hand pat his head through the costume covering it. John stilled and listened hard for any signal from Sherlock.

He heard Sherlock sniff imperiously, “Oh, that. That’s just something I picked up on a corner and paid the night for. A bit of rough trade, not much to look at but he filled the costume requirements. Ignore him I’m much more interested in you darlings. He’s just the arse end for the evening.” A round of laughter followed, John was forgotten and Sherlock continued his covert interrogation.

John’s temper flared momentarily at the indignity. Almost instantly though his ire cooled as a lovely idea for a bit of revenge for this whole ludicrous evening, took shape.

He smiled as he slid his hands down the backs of Sherlock’s thighs and then up to gently palm the swell of his backside. 

John felt the shift and tensing of muscles in response to his touch as Sherlock continued his exchange with the brothers. John smiled wickedly and leaned forward nudging his nose up and down the seam of Sherlock’s arse cheeks. John breathed in and held it before he slowly exhaled hot moist air through the thin material of Sherlock’s trousers. He smirked as he felt the man shift again and heard Sherlock stutter just for a nanosecond before regaining composure.

John spent time just gently massaging the currently shamming detective’s lovely rear. His hands slowly moved up to his hips, thumbs rubbing circles over the bones beneath. John listened as Sherlock continued speaking about ancient erotic art and making increasingly lewd innuendoes about how said art could be used today. Sherlock had a truly filthy mind when he set to it. John admired that about him quite a bit. Not at the moment however. At this moment he felt compelled to remind Sherlock of just who should be the sole beneficiary of that lewd mind, case or no case.

John moved his hands slowly around to the front of Sherlock’s hips and with practiced movements he had the buttons and flies of Sherlock’s trousers undone. He was pleased to find that the looseness of the costume allowed for quite a bit of covert below the belt activity and John set to taking advantage of this gleefully. He slid his hands into the waistband of trousers and pants and smoothly worked them down to the top of Sherlock’s thighs, exposing all of that arse and all of the loveliness located on the other side. He felt Sherlock tense and sway a bit before regaining control and all the while managing, uninterrupted, to continue the conversation with the creep brothers.

John slowly moved his hands over the exposed warm flesh and leaned forward to lay a gentle open mouth kiss on each cheek. He closed his eyes and concentrated on the feel of Sherlock’s smooth skin and the musky smell of him enhanced and contained by the confines of the costume. He cautiously moved his hands forward one coming to rest on Sherlock’s scrotum as his other hand lightly gripped the base of his already half hard cock. John smiled broadly as he felt and heard Sherlock cough and clear his throat before continuing his interactions. 

John pressed his face against the cleft of Sherlock’s arse, mouthing and kissing the warm roundness, then dipping his tongue into the crease. He felt the muscles in Sherlock’s body tense and twitch, he could feel the subtle increase in breathing and best of all he felt the hardening of the cock in his hand.

He could still hear Sherlock continue his verbal dance with the brothers, Sherlock was coping very well with the situation so far, and he was being truly brilliant. Well that would not do and John decided it was time to up the ante.

John began to slowly move his hand up and down the length of Sherlock’s now straining erection. Stopping only to smear the pre-come gathering at the tip before sliding back down to the base where his other hand busied itself with caressing and gently rolling his testicles. John continued this agonizingly slow and gentle pace, careful to not disturb the outer layer of the costume and draw attention from observers outside his costume space. He was also keenly aware of how this type of touch drove Sherlock insane. Far too much, yet far too little, absolute torture. John smiled into Sherlock’s skin.

Sherlock sounded cool and collected and John was sure that to all outside observers, Sherlock appeared the epitome of calm. John, however, knew that Sherlock’s body would be starting to show signs pf his covert arousal. John imagined the flush of pink that was probably starting to creep across Sherlock’s chest about now, he imagined the beginnings of sweat beading at his hairline he imagined Sherlock’s grey eyes becoming darker, the lids lowering slightly, beautiful.

John knew much of this would be obscured by the costume or easily passed off as effects of drink or a warm crowded room. But he knew it was there and it was his doing and it was becoming intensely arousing thinking about it. John tried to shift and get relief from his own tightening trousers. He had not figured in the personal suffering he would experience as backlash from his revenge plan but too late now for rethinking. He was now fully committed and a Watson did not flinch in the face of adversity. Nor did a Watson ever abandon such a fantastic and lovely arse. Slowly he withdrew the hand that was attending to Sherlock’s balls and brought it back around to his side of the man. His fingers traced down the crease of Sherlock’s cheeks parting them as they went. John followed his fingers with his very wet and insistent tongue, dipping down to the now accessible whorl of Sherlock’s anus. John grinned inwardly as he felt Sherlock’s entire body jerk minutely and he heard the timbre of his voice raise at least 2 octaves before returning to its controlled measured tones.

John continued to work his tongue over and around the very sensitive spot as his hand continued to work Sherlock’s cock torturously slow. It was sensual almost hypnotic concentrating his somewhat deprived senses and attention to the act of adoring Sherlock’s body. John was still aware of the activity and conversation going on outside the isolation of the costume. He could hear the changes in Sherlock’s tones and cadence and it was clear that Sherlock was on to something. He was getting what he needed from the frankly obnoxious brothers. Truly they were beyond the bounds of just fetishizing horses, it was an obsession. That they were including Sherlock in their fantasies was absolutely not fine with John and the sooner Sherlock got what he came for the better.

The realization that Sherlock was beginning to wrap up this interview registered with John and he began to pick up his pace as well. He could feel the vibration of Sherlock’s voice as it increased in volume and speed, he began moving his fist faster and more firmly on Sherlock’s cock as he licked and tongued his hole with greater fervor. 

Suddenly John felt Sherlock go rigid and heard him utter the familiar sound of Sherlock having an epiphany, a soft ‘ahhh’ sound. This coincidentally was also the familiar sound of Sherlock having an orgasm. John felt Sherlock’s cock pulse hot semen over his fist and painting the inside material of the centaur leggings. John marveled at the synchronicity of mind and body as Sherlock solved the case and achieved orgasm simultaneously. It was just too fucking much and John shoved his hand down his own pants and was coming after three good strokes. He stifled his groan with a mouthful of Sherlock’s arse cheek. 

Their departure approaching quickly, john deftly did up Sherlock’s trousers, the mess in the costume and in John’s pants would have to be dealt with later at home. Nothing to be done about that.

He could hear Sherlock politely yet firmly dismissing the brothers with a story about a sudden family emergency, assuring them that he would see them again and making promises to, in the near future, get together for some horseplay. The brothers protested but allowed Sherlock to make his exit with John in tow. They did after all have many guests to impress and the night was young.

John felt Sherlock take a deep breath and tug on the costume once the brothers had stepped away. “Ready?”

“Yep.

John resumed his posture as the rear end of the centaur and walked with Sherlock through the crowded dance floor. Through the costume he could feel the refreshing coolness of the October air as they left the manor and made their way to the line of waiting cabs. 

Sherlock stopped at their chosen cab and finally uncovered John. Free and separated they quickly arranged themselves in the back of the cab and directed the driver to Baker Street.

“So, got what you needed then, solved it?” John smiled, already knowing the answer.

Sherlock snorted, “Yes more than I bargained for really and yes solved it, hardly a challenge.” John watched Sherlock produce his phone and tap out a long text and press send.

“I have informed Mycroft of the location of the missing artifacts and the Dioscuri brothers will have to answer for their crimes.” Sherlock removed the half mask and attempted to restore some order to his unruly hair.

John grinned at the gorgeous mess beside him, arousal spiking even as he squirmed in the uncomfortable cooled wetness in his own pants. “How about a post case kiss?” he purred making an exaggerated pucker and moving toward Sherlock.

“Um, no, I know where your mouth has been.” Sherlock moved back slightly, chin raised and trying his best to look haughty despite the shameful state of his own pants.

John let loose with his high pitched giggle slouching down in the seat and feeling wonderful.

Sherlock sighed and leaned back in the seat resting comfortably against John, the corner of his mouth quirking up.

“Fine, John. Laugh now,” he rumbled, “I will let you be the one to explain to Mycroft why the Royal Ballet needs to burn their best centaur costume.”


End file.
